


I'm So Curious

by bunnoculars



Category: SHINee
Genre: Bottom Lee Taemin, M/M, Top Kim Jonghyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnoculars/pseuds/bunnoculars
Summary: Jonghyun has more questions than Taemin has answers, probably, and There's Only One Bed.
Relationships: Kim Jonghyun/Lee Taemin
Comments: 15
Kudos: 137





	I'm So Curious

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to relieve some stress, so here is some porn. idek haha.

Taemin never looks any different when he knows Jonghyun is staring at him. He hasn’t changed position in like ten minutes, sprawled bonelessly across the bed with his chin propped up on his hand, long legs stretched out, bare feet lying on his pillow. He’s worn the same expression for at least the last fifteen minutes, too, that one that means he’s concentrating really hard on doing absolutely nothing. Except that’s a smile, all of the sudden. He turns it on Jonghyun.

“Look, hyung, you’re on TV,” he says, like it’s that easy for Jonghyun to drag his eyes off Taemin and turn to the screen and see himself staring back, except smaller and oranger and maybe cuter? Taemin told him once that when he played Pokémon as a kid he started with Charmander instead of Squirtle, which means he picked Jonghyun over Minho, at least.

“If we keep watching Minho might show up,” Jonghyun says out loud.

Taemin rewards him with that dumb hiccupping laugh of his, dark eyes smiling. “Which one of them got our room, do you think?”

“The hotel made a mistake, Taemin-ah. Otherwise someone would’ve come to trade with us by now.”

When they went to bed last night in Tokyo after the concert, Manager hyung mentioned he wasn’t feeling well. He spent half their morning flight to Osaka in the bathroom, and when they landed, he asked if someone else would take the double room with Jinki, since he was going to be getting up all night. Taemin spent the whole taxi ride over figuring out what Manager hyung could have eaten that he hadn’t, so busy making himself hungry that he barely reacted when Jonghyun volunteered them both.

That came later, after Taemin took twenty tries to unlock the door and then forgot and left Jonghyun to lug both their suitcases inside. He almost walked into Taemin, standing in the middle of the entryway, and looked over his shoulder to find a giant queen size bed in the middle of the room. This is the first thing either of them have said about it, though. What is there to say, even? They’ve shared a bed a million times by now, this just makes it a million and one.

Jonghyun pushes his foot into Taemin’s stomach, the strip of soft skin peeking out where his shirt his riding up. “Do you want hyung to order you something? I thought I saw a menu over there.”

Taemin leaves Pikachu and Charmander to Ash and faceplants in the blanket. “It’d just turn to fat now,” he tells Jonghyun, which means the real answer is yes. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hair cut. My face looks so big now.”

That again. Since he can’t pinch his cheeks Jonghyun leans over and pets Taemin’s hair. It slips through his fingers, dark and glossy. “It’s cute, Taeminnie. You’re cute.”

Especially when he lifts his head and makes that face at Jonghyun, the one that says he thinks Jonghyun is just being Jonghyun. Instead of replying, though, he drags himself off to shower, leaving Jonghyun with only the television left to watch.

Instead he lies back on the bed and closes his eyes and listens. The door clicks shut and the water turns on, but no matter how hard he strains his ears, he can’t hear the rustle of clothes as Taemin undresses, the smack of his bare feet against the tiles as he steps into the shower, his groan as the spray hits his body and the steam and heat melt his muscles, his voice as he mumbles his way through one of the songs they practiced fifty times today. The catch in his breath as his hands glide over his own skin, slick with soap, down his stomach and—

Jonghyun opens his eyes again. The ceiling is the same as he left it. The TV isn’t. Pokémon is over, and another show Jonghyun doesn’t care about is on. Where is the remote? Not in the blankets, not on Taemin’s bedside table or his own, not anywhere. For all Jonghyun knows Taemin forgot and took it in there with him, the way he keeps taking Jonghyun.

That’s wrong. Jonghyun keeps taking himself. All he has to do is lie here for another five minutes and Taemin returns to him, anyway, hair dripping onto his shirt, the same one as before. He knees onto the bed again, mattress just barely dipping under his weight as he flops down next to Jonghyun, this time with his head on the pillow instead of his feet. Face-to-face. Jonghyun regrets not getting up and turning the TV off the second Taemin turns away from him to glue his eyes to it again.

“It’s good to see everybody again,” Taemin says after five solid minutes of more anime.

Jonghyun resists pointing out that they’ve been on tour for almost two weeks already, or that the last leg was barely a month ago. That’s all boring, all things that won’t make Taemin’s heart beat any faster. Jonghyun’s couldn’t, either, at this point.

“Not everybody. I haven’t seen that one dancer hyung around, he must have quit after last time.” Jonghyun clears his throat, turning onto his side and stretching his leg out to lay his ankle across Taemin’s. “The one you dated for a while. Our Taeminnie’s ex~”

“You mean Hideo hyung?”

Taemin glances at him, like he’s weirded out Jonghyun would even bring him up. Like even that much is weird. Whatever. He’s the one who held the elevator for Jonghyun every night he saw them together and dawdled, then made him stand there and watch Taemin’s blush spread while the floors ticked up. By the time they reached their floor, Taemin was always too flustered to say good night to him. Those were practically the only Korean words Hideo knew. _See you in the morning, Jonghyun-kun._

But this is a month later, and Taemin is here with him, showing Jonghyun his no makeup face and still smelling of shampoo, and that guy is never going to grope Taemin’s ass in front of Jonghyun again. There’s no reason to think about it anymore.

And yet, what comes out of his mouth is, “How come you two broke up, anyway?”

Taemin shoots him another look, even more impatient than the last, but his ears give him away, burning red. “We weren’t even dating, hyung.”

What else is Jonghyun supposed to call it? He digs his toes into Taemin’s calf.

“Did you get tired of him?”

Taemin’s fingers close around Jonghyun’s foot before Jonghyun can poke him with it again, voice so close to normal as he says, “No, it was just a tour thing.”

They’re still on tour, though. Instead of pointing that out, Jonghyun bites back his smile and goes for something even more obvious. “A sex thing, you mean?”

“Mm,” Taemin grunts, eyes on the TV. Just admitting it has his ears even redder, blush spreading across his face, down his neck and chest maybe. He’s still holding onto Jonghyun like he’s forgotten where he put his hand, or that he even has one. Part of Jonghyun wants to wriggle away, sit up, get a better view of Taemin’s expression, maybe laugh at it, but that would mean breaking contact. Even if it’s only his foot, it’s still part of him, it counts. Jonghyun lies as still as he can, stomach fluttering weirdly, Taemin’s skin on his, his touch sinking into him.

But then he has to open his mouth again. “Was he good while he lasted, at least?”

And now Taemin is running away from him. Well. Walking away, and only as far as the bathroom. Jonghyun thinks about heaving himself up and following him, before Taemin emerges to say around his toothbrush, mint foam on his lips, “I don’t know how to compare it.”

His sample size isn’t as large as Jonghyun’s, but it’s still enough to be significant. Maybe Jonghyun should tell him that. Maybe he should ask him if Hideo asked him how he liked it, if he took his time with him, figured out how to make Taemin talk and moan and cry out, if he made Taemin come so hard he left orbit, then did it all again as soon as his body let him. If just lying on top of the bedspread fully clothed and watching Taemin watch anime could give him dirty thoughts.

Jonghyun is just lucky he’s used to being this close. Taemin goes to spit, then returns to him again, soft and warm and inches from touching him everywhere. He lets Jonghyun catch his eye finally, too.

“Did you like him?” Jonghyun says.

“I didn’t dislike him,” Taemin replies. “We didn’t talk much.”

“Not even dirty talk~?”

Instead of laughing like he was supposed to, Taemin tells him honestly, “SM never taught us those kinds of words. He didn’t know them in Korean, either. At least he didn’t say them.”

If he had said _I love you_ in Japanese, even if he blurted it out as he came, Taemin would have understood. Still…

“He must have liked you. He had to have.” Even with these few inches between them, it’s impossible not to, but Taemin shakes his head at Jonghyun. Nope. “Could you tell from the way he touched you, or something?”

For one long moment, Taemin just looks at him, before he rolls onto his back to tell the ceiling, “He was fucking someone else at the same time. A staff person, it doesn’t matter who, they didn’t come back either. It wouldn’t have mattered if they had, either.” Taemin hesitates, then adds all in a rush, “I wasn’t trying to be cool, hyung, we really weren’t dating. I just mixed his phone up with mine and saw their texts, and then he tried to lie about it, and that made it weird.”

When Jonghyun reaches over to pet his hair, Taemin starts at his touch, before leaning into it.

“I’m sorry, Taeminnie.”

Taemin shoots him this look like he doesn’t know what to do with him. “Why would you be?”

_I’m sorry that someone like that got to touch you. I’m sorry that he had no eyes and no brain, apparently, just a dick he didn’t know what to do with. He should have done that part right, at least. If he were good you wouldn’t have to think about it, Taemin-ah._

Jonghyun brushes Taemin’s bangs back from his face, waiting for the first thought Taemin would actually want to hear. “He made you feel dirty.”

That’s not it, either. Something in Taemin’s expression shifts. “He didn’t make me feel anything, hyung, I just said. It wasn’t even that hard to avoid him while we were working, and by the end I would’ve been too tired at night anyway.” He searches Jonghyun’s face to see if that went in anywhere, but whatever he sees there has him repeating loudly, “We really weren’t dating, hyung. Really. You don’t have to date to fuck.”

Jonghyun does. Even if it’s only the first date, even if he’s not sure he wants to see them again, even if he only said yes in the first place because they were really hot, he can’t skip straight to the sex. He wants to have it with a person, not a body.

Taemin isn’t even waiting for his answer to that, he’s too busy rooting around for the remote, probably to turn the TV off and skip straight to falling asleep. He won’t find it if Jonghyun didn’t, and Jonghyun doesn’t feel like helping. What kind of face would he make if Jonghyun pulled him back down next to him and held onto him?

Before Taemin can work up the energy to get up and turn it off himself, Jonghyun says out loud, “If I know it won’t mean anything, I’m just doing it to get off, then I’d prefer fantasies to the real thing.”

Taemin pauses in his search to consider that, sitting back on his heels, tiniest crease between his eyebrows. “Do your fantasies start as dates, too?”

“Sometimes,” Jonghyun replies. “Sometimes we’re married.”

His words hang in the air awkwardly, and it’s so hard to lie still under Taemin’s eyes, dying for Taemin to tell him how that sounded. _Ask me if I meant it. We as in me and you._

“If I waited for it to mean something I’d wait forever,” Taemin says instead. He collapses onto the mattress again, TV forgotten, burying his face in his pillow. When he speaks again his voice comes out muffled. “It’s just, it’s different for me, hyung. Most guys don’t even look at me, unless it’s a joke. Out of all the guys I’ve liked, none of them have liked me back.”

Jonghyun’s heart squeezes down to nothing, and before he can even think he’s reaching for Taemin again, this time to rub his back. Taemin stiffens under his palm, then goes boneless. If Jonghyun told him most guys don’t deserve him anyway, and if they’re weeding themselves out that’s a good thing, that means Taemin doesn’t have to waste his time on them…it wouldn’t even sound like the truth to Taemin, it would just embarrass him. Jonghyun can’t tell him he has bad taste, either.

_Like me, Taeminnie. I’ll like you back, I’ll love you more, I would die for you. I’m already yours._

“What about all your boyfriends?” Jonghyun tries. All three of them. Taemin sneaks a reproachful look at him, one cheek smushed by the pillow. “You’re not the one who gets dumped all the time, either.”

“You only get dumped because you always wait for them to do it.” Not always. Jonghyun used to get his heart broken all the time, before it started beating for Taemin. Taemin can’t even hear it from this close, he’s too busy hiding from Jonghyun again. “Anyway, I meant the guys I liked first.”

Half the time Taemin trips and falls into relationships – it always starts out as coffee and ends with Taemin asking Jonghyun how to tell his boyfriend he doesn’t want to wear couple rings. The other half…

“How do you know? You never confess.”

Jonghyun’s heart is doing this weird thing, flying and falling, even as his brain shouts at him, _Taeminnie doesn’t mean_ you.

Taemin emerges from his pillow again to tell him impatiently, “Because I know what they’ll say,” as though he knows how to read people at all. He could stare into Jonghyun’s face like this all night and still miss the obvious.

“You think you do, Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun corrects him.

Taemin laughs, of all things. “You think I don’t?”

Jonghyun stopped thinking a few seconds back. It’s so hard when Taemin is this close to him, dark eyes, pink lips, strawberry shampoo and minty breath. Two inches and Jonghyun could learn how their mouths fit together. Instead of leaning in, though, Jonghyun rolls onto his back and trains his eyes on the ceiling.

“I’m not the right person to ask, not anymore,” he says. “I’m as bad as you now.”

Silence. Then, “You like someone?” Jonghyun nods, hard enough that Taemin should see if he’s looking. Which he is, apparently. “And she doesn’t like you back.”

He. Jonghyun shakes his head, and that’s it. No more questions. Not from Taemin at least.

“You won’t ask who?” comes out of Jonghyun’s mouth. “You aren’t curious? Mm? Taemin-ah?”

“Nope,” Taemin replies mercilessly. “If you cry over her, maybe then.”

Him. _You._

“Taemin-ah~”

The bed shifts and sighs as Taemin climbs onto all fours, crawling to the foot of the bed and streeeetching to reach the TV, index finger just barely brushing the power button. It’d be easier if he just got up. For Jonghyun, too, since he wouldn’t have to drag his eyes off Taemin’s ass, up the arch of his spine, and go do it himself. Then it’s easier to get everything else over with, brush his teeth, slather his face in skin cream, set the alarm on his cell phone, all the unsexy parts of going to bed. Taemin makes turning the blanket down way more difficult than it has to be, but he sits up when Jonghyun tells him, then lifts his butt, then his feet.

“I didn’t bring any pajamas,” Taemin warns Jonghyun while he’s still standing over him.

Jonghyun’s pulse spikes, heat billowing up in his stomach, but somehow he manages, “You don’t even own any, last I checked.”

“You don’t either.” Taemin’s a little pink again. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you, hyung,” he says, voice even pinker, before he adds in a rush, “If it’s not I can keep my underwear on.”

Okay is the wrong word. Jonghyun tears his eyes off Taemin’s face and forces himself to go get the lights before he can find the right one, before he opens his mouth and any of the ones in his head spill out. They settle under his skin instead, bright hot, and when he comes back to bed he finds Taemin with his legs in the air, struggling out of his skinny jeans, making the stupidest face. The cutest. Jonghyun hooks his fingers in the ankles of his pants and pulls them the rest of the way off, miles of soft smooth legs at his fingertips, and doesn’t imagine forcing them open wider, dragging Taemin down the bed and stepping between his thighs. As Taemin lifts his T-shirt, Jonghyun tears his eyes away, retreating to his side of the bed. Behind him, the mattress creaks and the blanket rustles, Taemin burrowing in before he kicks off his briefs. He always used to do that, every night they went to bed at the same time. He never cared in the morning though, wandering off to shower naked, half the time wandering back in wet and naked, since he forgot he needed clothes. Maybe tomorrow morning will be the same~

As Jonghyun pulls his shirt over his head, the lamp clicks off. There’s no way Taemin could have fallen asleep in the time it takes him to step out of his pants, but when Jonghyun slips under the sheets and settles next to him Taemin doesn’t move, turned away from Jonghyun, half on his stomach and half on his side, leg stretched out so far his toes brush Jonghyun’s calf. Jonghyun should be telling him to stick to his side, not pressing into Taemin’s touch, dizzy with it, and not lying there and tracing the curve of Taemin’s shoulders with his eyes, the line of his neck, his hair spilled out over his pillow.

Saying, “Did you miss me at all after you moved out?” Shit. He has Taemin naked in his bed, the problem should be his dick and not his heart, but now it’s aching, and waiting for a reply is torture. Even five seconds is too long. “I missed you. Even before you moved back for good, when it was just for a night, I still did. Our room was so lonely without you.”

“Why do you always act like you were there all the time? You were gone as much as me, hyung. You were always at your girlfriend’s place.”

Taemin sounds almost as annoyed with Jonghyun as he is with himself, probably because he’s been up since five in the morning and he’s had to tell Jonghyun that same thing like fifteen times in the last few years. Jonghyun doesn’t know how to tell him, _I like hearing you say it. I like knowing that you noticed I was gone, that I was with someone else. Some crazy part of me hopes it hurt you. Just a little, Taemin-ah, not a lot._

He doesn’t know either how to stop himself from asking, “Were you lonely without me, then?”

Taemin sighs into his pillow. “I was asleep.”

Yeah. Like Jonghyun said, crazy.

“Like you were always at your parents’?” Jonghyun says instead of turning over or closing his eyes or hiding under the blanket with his phone. And with Taemin’s naked body, all warm and soft and right here, so close Jonghyun is breathing in the body wash he used, not Taemin’s usual scent, must be the hotel’s, and yeah. Anyway. “That guy you dated, your first boyfriend. The one you met at church.”

“What about him?”

“Nothing.” Or not. Not nothing. Taemin scoots further towards his side of the bed, withdrawing his foot, sending, “I get why you lied to your mom about where you were, but not me,” tumbling out of him.

Taemin goes still. Jonghyun really needs to shut up already. Really.

“Was he your first?” he asks. Then, so quickly he can hardly taste the words, “It’s okay if you don’t answer, Taemin-ah.” Or not, because the next thing is, “You already know everything about me, or I’d tell you.”

 _Oh my God, hyung,_ Taemin is going to groan into his pillow. _This is why. This is why I never tell you anything._ Except he doesn’t. His silence electrocutes Jonghyun, skin buzzing, mouth gone dry, heart hammering in his chest, until he’s almost numb from it.

“I tried everything on myself first, anyway,” Taemin says finally, instead of answering him. “I don’t get why that doesn’t count.”

_Whoever it was, it sounds like he didn’t do it right._

Jonghyun just barely bites that back. It's not funny. Taemin knows what he likes, Jonghyun knows he knows, he has two years of coming home to their room smelling like sex and their garbage can piled high with tissues and Taemin talking too loud, too fast, avoiding Jonghyun’s eyes, trying to hide his lube under his blanket once he remembered he forgot to put it away, plus that one single time Jonghyun came home to Taemin folded in half on his bed with his shirt between his teeth and his fingers in his ass instead. That guy probably didn’t even ask, just took whatever he wanted and expected Taemin to want it too.

“I’ll have to ask you for suggestions, I’m running out of ideas,” Jonghyun says instead of any of that. “I haven’t even been on a date in a year and a half.”

Taemin’s shoulders relax ever so slightly. It takes everything Jonghyun has not to close his hand over one, turn Taemin over so he can see his face. “You’ll find someone, hyung.”

“I have already, did you forget that part?”

Taemin shakes his head, hair whispering across his pillow. “Someone who likes you back, I mean. You have to, you have to be happy.”

Jonghyun doesn’t even know what that word means. Just being this close is enough. Too much sometimes. If Taemin held him closer, took him inside him, said all the things he says in Jonghyun’s dreams, Jonghyun really might die.

“What about you, Taeminnie? Do you have someone new?”

Taemin shakes his head again. “Not new.”

But someone.

Jonghyun knows better, but his body never does, this feeling like he’s been kicked in the chest. An ex? No, Taemin’s moved on from them all. And he didn’t grow feelings for that dancer hyung, he just told Jonghyun as much like ten times. One of those guys who didn’t like him back, then.

One of the ones Taemin thought didn’t.

“Do I know him?” Jonghyun says.

For one long moment, for forever, Taemin keeps him waiting. And then he says, voice so normal it’s not at all, “It doesn’t matter. I have to move on, too.”

“I know him, then. If I didn’t you would’ve just told me that.” Jonghyun takes a deep breath. Another. Taemin’s scent still makes him so dizzy. “You don’t have to tell me who it is. Just…if he’s not blind, give him a chance, Taemin-ah. A lot of guys aren’t as straight as you think they are, especially if it’s for you.”

Jonghyun already knows how Taemin is going to reply. I don’t need you to say stuff like that, hyung. And he already knows how he wouldn’t reply. I know, but I need to say it.

Except again, that’s not it, because all of the sudden Taemin huffs and says, “How would you know, hyung?” The mattress shifting as he sits up and fumbles to turn on the lamp, wrenching himself around and staring down at Jonghyun. The blanket slips down to pool in his lap, light playing over Taemin’s bare skin, shining in his hair. Maybe Jonghyun’s heart stops, staring back.

“How would you know?” Taemin repeats. He probably thinks he knows the answer: _you don’t._

He’s wrong. He should know it, but he doesn’t. He needs Jonghyun to tell him. Jonghyun could tell him how beautiful he is, roll over and nail his eyes to the wall instead of Taemin’s supple skin, the curve of his shoulders and dip of his collarbones, his cute little nipples—his eyes, which are up there. His dark dark eyes. His face. The expression on it.

“For me, it was Internet War.” It’s so easy to find the words, so hard to force them out of his chest. To hold Taemin’s eyes. “Honestly, it was probably a lot of things, but I was pretty dumb back then. I made up so many excuses in case you said something - the atmosphere, the adrenaline – but it was you.”

Taemin freezes. “What?”

“You don’t remember? I know you felt it.” It. Jonghyun’s dick, pressing into Taemin’s thigh, so hard for him it almost hurt. If anything hurts right now Jonghyun can’t feel it, he can’t feel anything, just his heart pounding so hard he’s shaking. “That was the first time I thought of you.”

Taemin’s face kind of falls open. Jonghyun should get up and go sleep in the bathroom, go knocking on doors until one of the others lets him in, tell Taemin, _hyung won’t do anything. I haven’t and I won’t, except look. And think about all the things I’d do to you, the things you’d do to me, the way you’d look covered in my come, how red you’d get whenever you told me you loved me, my ring on your finger…but I can’t help that, Taeminnie. I tried and I can’t._

Taemin tells him, “That was four years ago, hyung.”

For one long moment, neither of them moves. Taemin has the weirdest expression on his face, half deadly serious, half like he’s about to burst out laughing. Jonghyun has no idea how he looks right now, he has no idea how he’s still breathing even. The longer he looks, Taemin’s eyes darken and his breathing quickens, stomach rising and falling under Jonghyun’s gaze. And then all of the sudden Taemin’s leaning over him, touching him, hand cupping his cheek, so small and warm and this is real. Jonghyun reaches up to tangle their fingers together, just trying not to hold on too tight.

Time doesn’t stop though, or else Taemin’s lips wouldn’t be pressed to his.

Taemin is kissing him. This is a kiss. _Taeminnie._ His lips are so soft and he tastes like toothpaste, and his breath sounds like the sea, crashing against Jonghyun’s ear. 

“I know it’s weird, I know I’m being crazy,” Taemin murmurs into his skin, hiding his face in Jonghyun’s neck, folded almost in half leaning over him. Jonghyun’s fingers trip over the knobs of Taemin’s spine as he slides his hand up his back, soft smooth skin everywhere. Taemin half laughs, half groans in his ear. “You’ve thought about me too, right? You feel it too. You make me so crazy, hyung. You always ask me about everything, everybody, except you. I was starting to think you just didn’t want to know.”

“I love you,” Jonghyun blurts out, before he kind of dies inside. He can’t even see Taemin’s face. “You don’t have to say it back, Taemin-ah, not right now. Not ever, if you don’t—”

“I do,” Taemin interrupts him. He sneaks a glance at him like he’s still half terrified of what he’s going to find, when Jonghyun would rip his heart of his chest and give it to him if he could. Taemin’s ears are burning red. “I don’t know how long. Since before you, probably.”

What have they been _doing_ for all this time?

Before Jonghyun can even think about asking that question out loud, Taemin’s mouth is back on his. It’s not what a first kiss should be, hot and wet and deep, Taemin’s fingers tangled in his hair, his hand on Jonghyun’s jaw, holding him in place as their tongues slide together. As he straddles Jonghyun, Taemin’s weight settles on top of him, trapping Jonghyun under the blankets when all he needs is skin-on-skin, so bad he could die without it. He slips his hands out of Taemin’s hair, relearning all the places on Taemin’s body he had memorized from years of stolen glances, the nape of his neck, the curve of his spine, the stretch marks Taemin always used to ask Jonghyun if he could see and then get mad when he said they were cute. His ass, round and firm. Jonghyun’s patted it before, slapped it, touched it, stared at it, imagined what it would be like to bury his face in it, rub his dick between the cheeks, but he’s never squeezed this long broken moan out of Taemin, never curled his fingers and had Taemin pressing into his touch, Taemin’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gasps for air, never had Taemin moving against him, dick pressing into Jonghyun’s stomach, so hard and thick and hot even through the blanket. _Fuck._

Never rubbed his thumb over Taemin’s hole, tiny and tight and hot, clenching under his touch.

“Sometimes I thought about you,” Taemin confesses, lips brushing Jonghyun’s with each word. “A lot of times. I always tried not to, but when I got close I couldn’t help it. I almost said your name once.”

He’s also never been this hard in his entire life, dick throbbing with each beat of his heart. As he struggles upright the blanket slips down between them and Taemin shifts closer, climbing into Jonghyun’s lap and staring down at him, eyes black. When he leans in for a kiss Jonghyun meets him halfway, falling into it, so dirty sweet he almost forgets he was going to ask.

“Almost?”

Taemin smiles against his lips, until Jonghyun slips his hand into his hair and yanks his head back and drags his tongue down Taemin’s neck. Then his laughter breaks into a moan. Jonghyun bites down, dizzy with Taemin’s scent, the taste of his skin, his voice in his ear.

“Jonghyunnie hyung.”

He sounds like himself, just how Jonghyun had thought he would. He’ll probably sound the same in the morning, when he’s trying to explain away the mark on his neck to the others, trying to find any other man besides Jonghyun he could pin the blame on. Or maybe not? Maybe he’ll say, It’s Jonghyunnie hyung’s fault, ask him about it. Maybe Jonghyun will say—

“I don’t want to hear about other men.”

That, apparently.

“You don’t?” Taemin tangles his fingers in his hair, tugging his head back until their eyes meet. Jonghyun tests his hold, leaning in to close his lips around one of his nipples. Taemin hisses, grip on him tightening. Jonghyun licks and sucks, feeling it stiffen under his tongue as he reaches up to play with the other one, pinching it between his fingers, rolling it, and somehow Taemin still finds the breath to remind him, “You’re the one who kept asking.”

He barely lets Jonghyun take his mouth away, pulling at his hair, hands cradling the back of his head, but he has to know: “About you, not them.”

Taemin arches towards his mouth, then whimpers as Jonghyun’s breath hits where his tongue had been. His hands slide out of Jonghyun’s hair, cupping his face, bringing his head up clumsily. Lips swollen, face flushed, hair a mess, he’s too beautiful to be real. And yet, he is.

“You don’t even need to. You know everything already,” Taemin says.

“Not everything,” Jonghyun says. “Not even close.”

He tumbles Taemin back onto the bed, and for a moment his heart stops, seeing Taemin spread out before him. Cute little hands twisted in the blankets that Jonghyun wants on him everywhere, the inside of his wrists, the dip between his collarbones, nipples still hard and shining with Jonghyun’s spit, the shelf of his ribs as his chest rises and falls, barely there abs Jonghyun is half dying to rub off on, cute navel he could fuck with his tongue, Taemin’s dick dripping precome he could catch on it, the vee of his pretty pretty legs. If he pushed them back, forced them open wider, he’d find Taemin’s hole. As Jonghyun rises to his knees, throwing the blanket back _finally,_ Taemin’s eyes travel down his body, tongue between his teeth as he stares at Jonghyun’s dick. He can stare all he wants. He can touch it, suck it, take it inside himself, make it come over and over and over until it can’t anymore, leave it hard and aching for hours while he decides what to do with it. It’s Taemin’s. Jonghyun is.

Taemin takes him. Between his legs, in his arms, in his heart, too, he’s already said he loves Jonghyun. He’s saying it now, with his hands holding onto Jonghyun so tight as Jonghyun lowers himself over him, his gasps and moans as their hips meet and their dicks rub together, his lips as he arches up for a kiss, his eyes staring up into Jonghyun’s face as he lifts away. Jonghyun can’t stop saying it either.

“I love you, Taeminnie,” kissing Taemin everywhere he can reach, “I love you so much,” finding his hand and lacing their fingers together, burning so hot he can barely breathe, “Love you.”

Finally Taemin sticks his tongue in his mouth. Jonghyun sucks on it. Taemin shudders beneath him, hips snapping up against his, fuck, before he buries his hands in Jonghyun’s hair and pulls him back, breaking the kiss. Maybe Jonghyun’s teeth close around his bottom lip, all soft and full, but Taemin still manages to get out, “Are you close? You can’t come yet, hyung. Don’t. I want you to do it inside me.”

Then Taemin should stop saying things like that. Jonghyun fists his hands in the sheets, opening his eyes to catch the look on Taemin’s face, that one look that’s only ever meant _hyung._ Or _hyung~. HYUNG._ Or, “Hyung, please,” when Jonghyun thrusts against him again. 

“Did you bring lube?”

“In my suitcase somewhere, hang on.”

Taemin has to push at Jonghyun twice, once to get his muscles working again, then again to roll him off, onto the blanket while he struggles off the bed and crawls over to his bags, digging through them, clothes flying everywhere, but all Jonghyun can see is his ass in the air. It’s impossible to go back to seeing without touching, Jonghyun is dying up here, burning up from the inside out, dick throbbing in the cool air, and what is taking so long. Maybe he should follow Taemin down and fuck him into the floor. No. This is their first time, the floor of a random hotel room isn’t special enough, and Taemin deserves pillows and everything soft, not aching knees and rug burn and whatever else. What if Taemin wants it like that, though? Rough and desperate. Animalistic. From behind, maybe. So hard and fast he’ll feel it for days. Or maybe slow and deep, each thrust lasting that long.

All Jonghyun wants is him. _Needs._

Just as he’s about to get up to ransack the bathroom, Taemin makes a triumphant noise, scrambling up, then standing before Jonghyun, naked and hard, so beautiful Jonghyun forgets how to breathe, until Taemin climbs into his lap and bears him down onto the bed and knocks the air back into his lungs. His first breath is lost in Taemin’s mouth, tongues and teeth, wet and deep, until suddenly Taemin is lifting away. The little bottle in Taemin’s hand is beautiful, too, though, especially when Taemin finally manages to get it open and shifts back on Jonghyun’s thighs and takes Jonghyun in his hand, sending him white hot. Jonghyun fucks up into his grip, so soft and slick and warm.

“Taeminnie.” Taemin’s eyes work their way up Jonghyun’s body to his face, so much slower than his hand. He’s still on Jonghyun’s abs when Jonghyun breaks. His voice does too, coming out in this breathy moan. “I don’t know how long I can last.”

 _As long as you can get it up again,_ Taemin would say, if he weren’t as hard and desperate and in love as Jonghyun is. As it is, he lets Jonghyun roll them over, lets Jonghyun press his legs over his shoulders and take as long as he needs to line himself up, his own hand so big and rough after Taemin’s, and lays between the brace of Jonghyun’s arms with his feet in the air and his hands twisted up in the sheets, face flushed and eyes burning blacker than black. Somehow this isn’t a dream.

“I hope the real thing is as good~” Taemin says, as though he’s read his mind. “As your fantasies. At least I’m guessing that was about me.”

If it’s supposed to be a joke, it doesn’t sound like it. And it’s not. Taemin’s not. It’s so hard to catch Taemin’s eyes, but then it’s so easy to hold them. Jonghyun finds Taemin’s hands, lacing their fingers together, and when he leans down for a kiss, Taemin arches up to meet his lips, folded in half, ass rubbing up against the head of Jonghyun’s dick.

“No one else,” Jonghyun says into his mouth.

As he pushes in, slowly, slowly, Taemin takes him in, so hot and tight Jonghyun could die, so deep he really might. Once he bottoms out, keeping his hips still, letting Taemin adjust, making sure he hasn’t hurt him, all that is the hardest thing he’s done in his life, especially with Taemin stroking his hair back from his face, clenching down on his dick, wiggling his hips, finally commanding him, “Move already, hyung.”

Jonghyun does. Pulls out and then fills Taemin back up, slow and sure. It takes him a few thrusts to find the right angle, watching Taemin’s face, feeling his thighs tense against his chest, listening as his breathing hitches and his gasps break into moans, until finally he hits that spot and Taemin cries out.

“Say my name,” Jonghyun demands.

“You say mine,” Taemin retorts breathlessly, hand skimming down his own stomach and closing around his dick as Jonghyun fucks and fucks into him. Then, all high-pitched and stupid, “Hyung~!” Jonghyun leans in to bite his neck. Hard. _“Jonghyunnie hyung.”_

 _Taemin-ah._ No, out loud. Taemin said to. “Taeminnie. Taeminnie, are you close?” Each breath he takes fills him with Taemin’s scent, even when he presses one last kiss to Taemin’s neck and lifts his head to stare into Taemin’s face. “I’m so close, I can’t, I’m gonna.”

“Come.”

No, not until. Jonghyun slides his hand between them, covering Taemin’s on his dick. Taemin tangles his other hand in Jonghyun’s hair, dragging him down to crush their lips together, moaning into Jonghyun’s mouth as he shoots between them, hot and wet, and Jonghyun is going to have to lick him clean after this, and then take him in his mouth and feel him grow hard again, until he can’t anymore, and.

Jonghyun comes.

Everything else burns away, just Taemin’s hole tightening around him, his hands in his hair, including the one sticky with come, his breathing in Jonghyun’s ear. _Taeminnie._

Anyway. Jonghyun will have to hold him while he sleeps and shower him with kisses to wake him up, and hold his hand on the way to the elevator tomorrow, ask Taemin how he wants to tell the others, and once they get through their day they get to come back up here. And when they fly back home...more hotels. And maybe the dorm, if no one else is there? Also, the backseats of their cars. And maybe when he feeds Taemin now Taemin will eat him too afterwards, and all those nights he buys Taemin dinner will all count as dates now. And when they hit six months dating, he can ask if Taemin really hates couple rings that much. Not now, later. After they’re done trying every position they can think of on every surface in this room.

Now, though…

Taemin groans as his legs slip off Jonghyun’s shoulders, stretching them out across the bed as Jonghyun lies down next to him. Taemin lets Jonghyun gather him up, rolling onto his side to face him. He’s smiling, shy and sweet, and now Jonghyun is too.

“Was it just my looks?” Taemin asks him. “You only told me when you started wanting to fuck me, not when you started liking me.”

“It’s all the same thing for me,” Jonghyun reminds him. When he leans in for a kiss, there and gone, Taemin follows him, holding his face, teasing his mouth open. It kills Jonghyun to pull away, but Taemin is the one who asked. “It was your everything.”

Even if Jonghyun doesn’t know it all. Not yet.


End file.
